When Lizzie got to the car for her so-called date, she found Erica crying.
"What's the matter, sis?" Lizze naturally asked.
"Oh, I just... I, uh... I'm just so unsure of myself these days," Erica explained. "You know, all my life I've been the biggest kid in my class, or at least close to it, and I've always had this jock physique, even before I started working out. I'm not built like some tiny little ballerina or one of those beanpole fashion models. So I do what I can do."
"Well, I think you're great just as you are," Lizzie consoled her big sister,
"Oh, thanks, Lizzie! But when I was younger, people just said I was a tomboy and that I'd grow out of it. Now I'm still the same way and they call me butch, or a dyke. I can still wear clothes and cut my hair like a guy but people can tell I don't have a beard and that my skin is too smooth. And I really can't hide my tits anymore. At first I wished they'd stayed flat but that's not really the problem, or the answer. In fact, I really like 'em now. You should see the looks I get when I walk through the locker room at school, or at my gym. Then I start getting dressed and people wander off or ask why I'm such a dyke. I'd probably get more dates if showed myself off and let myself look like a girl.
"We have this date tonight," Lizzie pointed out.
"Lizzie, this is nice, we're just going out as sisters. It's not a real date and I don't think that jerk who bothered you would peg as for a guy. It'd probably do you more good if I roughed him up a little."
"But you're fine as you are. I like you as you are," Lizzie encouraged.
"You've never had a date with a boy, have you, Lizze?" Erica probed. "You're sixteen now. That's old enough to date. Why haven't you?"
Despite being close to her sister, Lizzie didn't have an answer for that. Instead, she just stared back at Erica, her big sister, her strong sister, her protective sister, her lesbian sister, her sister she felt ready to kiss.
"You like girls, don't you?" Erica suddenly asked.
"Well, I, uh, well, see, I, uh, like some things about guys, but other things not so much. Guys are just gross in certain ways. I wish they could be big and strong and protective without being such asses. I wish they could be soft and understanding for real, and not as an act. And I wish their bodies weren't so, uh, I dunno, crude."
"Lizzie, do you have a crush on me?" Erica asked.
"What? No! That's not possible! You're really a girl. I know that. How could I..."
"OK, look. We said we were going out tonight, but we didn't say where. Would you mind stopping at my gym and looking around? There's no telling who we might meet."
"Well, OK; you're at the wheel," Lizzie allowed, happy the subject had changed. Surely I can't be a lesbian, she thought. Erica, she decided, was making a false assumption. Just because Erica was lesbian, that didn't mean Lizzie had to be. Or perhaps it was wishful thinking on Erica's part... But oh no, what if it was? Was Erica having thoughts about Lizzie? Lizzie wasn't sure she could deal with that. She had, however, sometimes wondered what lesbians actually did...
"Oh, look; there are some people I know," Erica remarked after parking outside the gym. "They're standing right outside. C'mon, let's say hello."
There were only two people standing outside the gym. One was a girl almost as large as Erica, dressed in a yellow sports bra and spandex shorts. The second seemed at first to be a rather tall, lankly woman wearing a mannish blouse, a tan skirt with pockets, black opaque pantyhose, tan flats, and a brown leather bag. Upon closer inspection, however, Lizzie realized the second figure was a guy in drag.
"Lizzie, this is my workout buddy, Ophelia Oliver," Erica began. "And this "
"This is Scott Upson," Ophelia stated. "Scott, this is my friend Erica and, ah..."
"This is my sister, Lizzie," Erica explained, after which Ophelia seemed to relax a little bit.
Back at the magic shop, Jon grinned at his minor intervention. A minor time warp, he mused, never hurt anyone...
